


To Whom the Throne Goes

by Cip



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Blood, Dysfunctional Family, Family Issues, Loki Has Issues, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki Posing as Odin, Odin's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 05:04:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10712760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cip/pseuds/Cip
Summary: I wrote this a few years ago after Thor: The Dark World came out, then promptly forgot about it. Given that Thor: Ragnorak is nearly due it’s about high time I threw this up online. It’s set about halfway through Dark World and is my explanation for where Odin ends up. It also probably won’t make any sense after Thor 3 so best I put it up now.





	To Whom the Throne Goes

_Ruined Throne room of Asgard_

"Loki..." Odin blanched, his grip on Gungnir tightening as he turned away from the guard. 

Loki...No matter what bad blood had occurred between them, and whatever he had threatened, he had _never_ wanted the trickster dead.

"Sire?"

"Leave me." He ran a shaking hand down his face, staring towards the ruin of the throne as if it could possibly tell him that things were otherwise. 

"Allfather..?" The guard sounded rightfully confused. "Forgive me, but you shed tears for a traitor?"

Odin rounded on him, fury in his grief stricken gaze. "I shed tears for the son I have lost! For the son I loved and have lost all chances to reconcile with! Do not _dare_ to presume to call me out on my grief!"

The guard took a step backwards, eyes wide with surprise and concern. It was obvious he was shocked by the Allfather's display of emotion, never expecting the stoic king to so obviously mourn a lost child. Or at the very least not Loki.

It was generally assumed that no one would mourn Loki.

"I am sorry, sire. For your loss." The soldier said quietly.

Odin simply waved him away, unwilling or possibly unable to say any more. He was no longer standing tall and proud, instead his shoulders had slumped in his grief, the stern king turned to an old man. His wife's death already sat heavy on him. It seemed surprising that this second death had hit him just as hard, considering who the death was.

The guard saluted silently and turned, leaving the Allfather to mourn alone.

Odin listened to the footsteps retreating across the ruined hall. The route was no longer straight, large pieces of masonry and rubble needing to be avoided so it was more than noticeable when the soldier appeared to suddenly falter.

" _Damn!"_

Odin turned.

_That voice._

That wasn't the voice of the guard who had just spoken to him. It was someone far more familiar. Odin's gaze found the soldier leaning heavily against a large piece of broken column. Even as he watched the man _flickered_ , armour giving way to green and black before trying desperately to return to the uniform.

And then the guard slumped heavily, the illusion dropping entirely as he slid down the broken stone to sit on the floor.

" _Loki._ " Odin breathed. There was a moment, a mere moment, as pure relief warred with anger on his face before both gave way to horrified concern.

There was blood _everywhere._

The front of Loki's coat and tunic were drenched, the crimson stain turning all green to an ugly brown. He lent back against the rock, struggling to draw breath as his life washed across the floor around him. His eyes were closed, but he managed to open them to see Odin kneel down infront of him.

"It appears that the rumours of your death were greatly exaggerated." The king said wearily. He watched as Loki frowned in muzzy confusion before pain took away the expression and replaced it with a twisted grimace. Blood was dribbling down the tricksters chin in a thin red ribbon that grew longer with every gulping breath he took.

Odin carefully pulled the torn scraps of leather aside to assess the wound, already noting with some alarm that Loki wasn't even trying to stop him. The injury was brutal; through-and-through and slicing into any major organ that had been in the way. Loki had minutes at best.

"Maybe less of an exaggeration and more a fortelling of the future, then." The king said softly. "Why did you come back, Loki?" 

"M...made amends with....with...thor." The trickster's voice was little more than a harsh gasp. "Needed...needed to see..." He trailed off with a groan, his eyes slipping closed again.

"You needed to see what my reaction to your death would be." Odin finished for him. The old king had never had much of a talent for reading Loki's intentions so it seemed almost unfair that he should get it so right the one time Loki would have wanted otherwise. However, the younger God nodded all the same. "Did you receive the reaction you were after?"

Loki opened his eyes again, the movement stilted and small as if even something so simple drew his remaining strength away.

"Ex...expected relief. You...sad. You were...sad." His eyes - red rimmed and narrowed in agony - were gleaming with tears. "Why? Why...mourn...mourn me when..."

Yet again the sentence went unfinished as the words died on his lips and all he could do was stare at the Allfather and hope that he had been understood.

"You are my son, you silly boy; how could losing you not break my heart?" 

The trickster opened his mouth to reply but this time his words never even made it out. Instead he choked back a shrill whimper, his hands clenching into fists in an effort to control his reactions to the agony. 

He didn't react when Odin's hand covered up the gaping wound, although he must have felt the pressure. The blood was flowing more sluggishly now, dripping down Loki's clothes to add to the large puddle he was sat in.

"Please..." His voice was a mere ghost of a whisper, barely audible. "Please...Father, let...let me die...end this... _please_..."

The king brushed his hand along his son’s forehead, smiling sadly as Loki attempted to open his eyes again. 

"When all this is over I fear I shall have to confine you to your rooms until you have this desire to die out of your system."

Loki gave a silent huff of morbid amusement, uncaring of the fresh blood that splattered down his chin. There would be no 'when this is over'; his life was already over and flooding the floor with red. He could feel the cold stone at his back, the rubble under him, Odin's hand still gentle against his cheek.

He was curiously warm, though, which was both as surprising as it was confusing. After all, he may have sustained the wound in a fight, but he was dying far from the battlefield. There would be no entry to Valhalla for Loki Odinson, only the freezing depths of Hel.

And yet he didn't feel those icy tendrils of death reaching out to him. Even though the effort to open his eyes, to move, to breath was all too much he still felt warm. 

The pain was slowly ebbing away too. Maybe his preconceptions of death were wrong after all...

And then there was a sudden sharp stab of agony that followed along the wound path that was worse than any pain yet. It was bad enough to impose on his waning energy and pull a harsh cry from him.

"Don't move." Odin's voice was stern, concentrating.

Loki wasn't aware that he'd moved, but the words made him consciously try to stay still and not struggle against the pain. It was only when he felt the wound sear red-hot that he realised what was happening.

"N-no! What...what are you d...doing?!"

Odin glanced at him before turning his attention back to the wound. "I would have thought you would recognise a healing spell when you felt it." As he said it there was another pulse of magic that drew a sharp cry from Loki. "Now hold still."

The bleeding was slowing and as the old king focussed the wound finally sealed itself. Loki had been rigid with pain, but as the spell finished he slumped back against the rock again. All colour had leeched from his face and he was struggling to slow his panicked breathing.

"Calm down, you're going to be alright." Odin sat back on his heels, giving his son some space. "That was quite an impressive wound."

"Yes...I am aware of that..." Loki tipped his head back against the rubble with a groan. "Quite a...a painful one too." He slowly moved a hand until it was resting where the injury had been. All that now remained were the rips in his clothes and the huge amounts of blood.

"Don't try to move yet; you've lost a lot of blood, and magic can't fix that."

"I know..." He aimed to sound annoyed, but it came out as a weak whisper. He was well aware that healing spells couldn't replenish blood lost from an injury, and that until his own normal healing processes caught up with the depletion he would be suffering the effects. "Why..." He licked his dry lips, attempting to make his voice sound stronger. "Why save me?" The words were antagonistic, but when his gaze flickered slowly up his expression was confused. Vulnerable. A lost child who didn't understand what had just happened.

"Because you're my son."

"But I'm...I'm _not._ "

Odin huffed, settling himself down more comfortably regardless of the blood on the floor. "Is that still how you wish to play this Loki?" He asked wearily.

"How else is there? I am nothing more than a - "

"Call yourself a stolen relic one more time and we will be having _words_ young man."

The tone of voice was so familiar that Loki's mouth snapped shut obediently. The king raised an eyebrow with a smile. 

"For all of your great intellect you always seem to miss what is right infront of you. In this case, your family."

"You _lied_ to me!" Loki hissed.

"When? By calling you my child? Does that mean every adopted child should hate their foster parents?" 

"You know I don't mean it like that..." Maybe Loki had meant to sound angry, but it came out tired, soft. He had so little energy to spare that anger just wouldn't work. "I'm a monster...you let me believe all my life I was one of you and..." He paused, wiped away the fresh blood on his lips, and attempted to find his train of thought again. "And I'm not. Not even close."

"Do you know why we call them monsters?" Odin asked. 

_‘Because they are’_ seemed to be too obvious an answer so Loki mutely shook his head.

"It's not for how they look, or that their culture is so different, but for how they act." The king said carefully. "We call them 'monster' for their complete lack of empathy, their inability to love and their sheer brutality in comparison with all other living beings. They are vicious and without mercy. _That_ is why we call them monsters."

Loki shrugged slightly, his grimace betraying that the movement was still painful for him. "So far you seem to have successfully described how I've been of late."

"Your actions of late have been your own choice. You have also recently chosen to aid when there was little to gain. You are no monster, Loki. A spoiled boy throwing a tantrum perhaps, but never a monster."

Loki's brows furrowed into a frown, as if he was struggling to understand what he was being told. Or maybe he was just trying to find the insult he was so certain was there.

Odin took advantage of the pause to raise his arm up, looking expectantly towards the ceiling. It was telling just how pained and weak Loki was that he hadn't noticed the presence of the raven that now took up Odin's invitation and alighted on the kings arm. It leaned its glossy black head forwards to whisper in the Allfather's ear, words that the trickster couldn't catch and didn't particularly try to either. 

"Really? Well that certainly gives a new perspective to things. _Both_ of them? Truly..." Odin looked down at Loki who glared back at him. "Were you aware Muninn followed you?"

The trickster shook his head silently, wondering just what on earth the damn bird had relayed.

"Apparently you were almost taken by one of those black-hole grenades after throwing yourself into it's path to save Thor's woman." The king said slowly. "And the wound I have just healed occurred as you saved your brothers life."

"What of it?" Loki growled. 

"Well, those are hardly the actions of a monster, are they?"

"You don't...you don't know _why_ I saved...saved them."

Muninn cawed smugly, causing Odin to smile.

"According to the impartial witness, it was because you feared for them. You control your expressions so well, but you always lose that control when you fight. You saved them because you didn't want them to die."

"All that from...from a bird?"

"All that from knowing you too well." 

Loki glowered at him, but didn't deny it.

"So, the question is; what are we going to do with you, Loki?"

The trickster shrugged slightly. "I believe the dungeons are in poor shape so you may have to wait a while if you want me incarcerated again." He attempted to sit a little straighter and a harsh grimace crossed his face. "Or is execution still on the cards?"

"It was never on the cards."

Loki frowned in confusion. "But..."

"For goodness sake boy, you are meant to be the master of deception; you really believed I would have had you executed?"

From the expression on his face it was reasonable to assume that Loki had. He looked away with a frustrated growl, pain still adding its own harsh chord to his voice.

He had been prepared to die, _expecting_ to die, and now he sat here partially healed if even still feeling the agony of being speared through. And it had been the father he hated whom had saved him. Needless to say, the prince was beyond confused.

And scared.

Not knowing what the future held was a feeling he hated, and right now he had no idea if he was going to live, die or lose the freedom he had so recently regained. And he hated that.

Loki was drawn from his self pity by the sound of the Allfather shifting his weight and suddenly slumping down amongst the rubble.

"What-?" The trickster turned back in time to see Odin paling, a familiar look of exhaustion crossing his face. "Oh _no_! No! Not now, not again! You did this to me last time!"

Odin smiled grimly. "Would you believe me if I said that I do not do this intentionally."

"But you _can't_ fall into the Odinsleep! There is no line of succession with Thor and Mother gone!"

The king shook his head with a wry smile. Loki was not the only one in the family extremely good at hiding ailments and weakness – to be this far advanced Odin had been hiding it for days.

"There is one that the line of succession still falls to."

Loki stared at him in confusion until Odin's direct gaze made him suddenly gasp, then laugh painfully.

"You _must_ be joking!"

"Sadly not."

"I'm hated! They would sooner stick my head on a pike than allow me back on the throne!"

"Yes, that is true." Odin said quietly. "Not forgetting, of course, that you are now meant to be dead." He surveyed the younger God for a moment. "You asked what I would do with you. Well, I believe that after everything that has occurred, you could do worse than having a clean slate."

"A...what?" Loki looked disbelieving. He deserved nothing of the sort.

Odin narrowed his single eye. "After everything that has occurred, the people need consistency in their leadership. Asgard risks falling apart without a strong leader, but she risks utter destruction with a leader people don't trust."

"And I'm obviously _so_ trustworthy."

"Indeed. However, I plan for them to never realise that it is you."

Loki opened his mouth, then closed it again with a frown.

"What are you proposing?" He asked finally.

"I'm offering you the throne of Asgard." Odin said simply. "But, of course, with conditions. None can know that it is you. You are more than adept at pretending to be another, so it will not be too hard for you to act as me." There was a sudden slight suggestion of a smile on his face. "And try not to start any wars."

"That happened once, and in my defence none of our men were hurt."

"The guards in the weapons vault?"

Loki had the audacity to shrug slightly. "Okay, I shall rephrase to only _some_ of our men were hurt, compared to the hundreds that may have died should Thor have started that idiotic war."

To his surprise, Odin merely nodded. "Perhaps."

"I still think this is a terrible idea."

"Do you have a better one?"

Loki scrubbed his hand across his his mouth, trying ineffectively to wipe away the blood painting his chin.

"I cannot believe you even want to trust me with this."

"I would never trust you with someone's life, but with a kingdom...? Well, you always were a perfectionist; I cannot imagine you not wanting to run it perfectly just to prove a point."

Loki scowled at the accurate summery.

"Why _did_ you save Thor's life, by the way?" Odin asked quietly.

"I don't know."

"You always have a reason for your actions, even if only subconsciously."

"It hardly matters now. I intended to die, and that didn't happen so now my reasons are my own."

"Why do you wish for death so badly, Loki?" Odin asked softly.

The trickster smiled, thin and sharp and all the worse for the blood across his face.

"You raised me to kill Jötunn."

"As I recall you killed their king, is that not enough?"

Loki looked down at himself, taking in the sheer amount of blood surrounding him. “It is never going to be enough.” He ran his hand through the pool of gore, then lifted it so that it dripped from his fingers. “I feel that I might as well get to the crux of the problem and sort out the one Jötunn that is the real issue here.”

“If you do that then the throne will be empty.”

“Oh, and we wouldn’t want that now would we?” The trickster hissed. “Why are you doing this, Allfather? Why are you such a fool as to trust me?!”

“Because your Mother trusted you.”

Loki snarled, looking away in a sharp, broken movement. “Indeed.” He closed his eyes briefly, biting his lower lip. “You could have had the decency to allow me to go to her funeral.”

“You know why I did not.”

“Oh of course, you can’t let the populace see the villain show an emotion beyond hatred. Grief is unbecoming of a monster.” 

“If that is what you choose to tell yourself.” Odin didn’t have the energy to bother arguing when he knew that Loki would throw anything he said back in his face. “I have long given up trying to change your mind on such matters.”

The trickster stared at him blankly, shaking his head. “What do you _want_ from me? You took away my life, took away my freedom and then you even managed to take away my death. What more can you possibly want?”

“I want my son back.”

Loki’s mouth snapped shut. He would have had a better comeback had he not been in a serious state of blood-loss but as it was the short statement had rendered him momentarily speechless. 

Was he even a son anymore? Just a few days ago he would have shouted ‘ _no_ ’ at anyone who dared to ask. He was alone in the universe, no friends, no family and no person he would truly trust. Did he _want_ to be a son? Again, a no would have been shouted, but if he was – for once – honest to himself he would have to admit that there was a part of him that still wanted to be a part of a family. Not necessarily any family in particular, but there was still something there that wanted to belong.

When the silence tellingly stretched just a little too long Odin nodded his head slightly. 

“Whatever you want now is up to you, Loki.” He said softly. “I am offering you the throne. I am falling into the Odinsleep whether you accept or not. Asgard is currently a ruin, her people frightened and hurting. Like it or not you are all she has.” Odin looked pained as he continued. “Loki, you are all _I_ have. Thor will not return here, we both know this, his heart lies on Midgard now. It is just you and I, and I will not be here for much longer.”

Loki looked away again, fury warring with something much less easy to decipher crossing his face. “Do not speak as if you are dying, you have done this too many times to pull that now. And Thor will come back. He always does.”

“Not this time.” The certainty drew Loki’s attention and he glanced back.

“You know this? Did Mo…was there a premonition?”

“Yes. Your Mother foresaw this, which is why she was your strongest advocate; she knew that in the end everything would rest on your shoulders.”

“Indeed. Did she say what I would do?”

Odin smiled slightly. “She knew, but she refused to tell me.”

Loki huffed with bitter laughter, which in turn caused him to cough harshly and cover his mouth with his hand. Fresh blood spattered across his palm and he grimaced. “Well, I do like to keep people guessing.”

“Always.” The king looked as old as the realms as he stared at his wayward son. “Have you made a choice?”

“I could just let you fall into the Odinsleep and not tell you.”

“You could.” 

Blood was running down Loki’s chin again – it was clear that he was far from fully healed – but he ignored it pointedly, choosing to rub a weary hand across his eyes instead. “I am so tired of this all. I am so tired of running from everything.” He looked away, across the ruined remains of the hall he had known almost better than anywhere else in the realms. He had been a child in this grand room – playing chase with Thor, reenacting battles, listening to Frigga’s stories – even the more recent memory of his trial couldn’t wipe away a long and happy childhood spent racing across the intricate floor tiles. When he turned back to Odin there was a gleam to his eyes that in the right light could have been tears.

“All I ever wanted was to make you proud.”

“And all I ever wanted was peace.” Odin said softly. “And here and now, we can both get what we truly want. I am not going to tell you that this will heal any of the wrongs between us – we have both done too much for that to be possible just yet – but perhaps we can begin the journey towards healing our family.”

Loki laughed, a bitter sting to the sound. “Family! We are no family without Mother, without Thor.”

“We have always been family and we always will be, Loki. Even if you should decide to leave and choose to destroy all of the nine realms, bringing them crumbling to your feet, we will always be family.”

Above them, in the stricken roof beams, the raven croaked and rustled its wings, causing dust to fluff up around it. Loki glanced down at the pool of blood surrounding him – evidence of his own mortality spilt across the floor in rivulets that had nearly robbed him of his life – then ran a finger through the glistening red. It ran down his hand as he sighed heavily and raised his palm up outwards to Odin.

“Loki?”

He closed his eyes, defeated where he should have been triumphant and a wry smile tilted his lips upwards.

“By my blood and my life I do so solemnly swear to uphold the laws and ordinances of the kingdom of Asgard.” The trickster’s usually strong voice was so quiet his father almost missed what he was saying at first. “This I take as my duty, and as my duty so I shall protect and serve and advise the people of this realm. As my duty I shall keep watch on the borders. As my duty I shall care for the land. As my duty I shall lay down my life if cause is given to save this kingdom.

I do so solemnly swear, by right of blood, by right of birth, by right of…right of…of…”

“By the right that is given…”

“By the right that is given to me. This I do so solemnly swear.” 

Odin’s smile of relief was tinged with the slightest edge of humor. “I never thought I would see the day that you forgot the Oath of the King.”

“I stuttered.”

“You forgot.”

Loki looked away with a scowl of irritation. “Well, I hardly ever expected to use it, and I am currently missing a considerable amount of blood.”

“Very true, although I have never seen that stop you before. Now, can you stand?”

“Probably about as well as you can.” 

The old king conceded that with a bow of his head. He looked as bad as Loki was feeling and between the two of them it would be hard to state which was more likely to keel over first.

“Come then, let us see if we can aid each other in standing and repair back to my chambers. If this plan is to work you need to be able to take on my role exactly.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Oh please, I am a master at duplication.” He started to shift his weight, before pain froze him again and he pressed his hand tight against his stomach with a groan. “Just how good was that healing spell of yours?”

“Good enough to keep you alive, if not entirely in one piece. I am barely keeping myself from the Odinsleep, you are lucky I could save you at all.”

“Lucky, now there’s a word for it.” 

“Did you truly wish to die? No.” Odin held up a hand as Loki opened his mouth to speak. “Do not answer that, it was quite clear that you were prepared for death. As I say; once all of this is over you are going to have a long and frank discussion with the healers about your desire to die.”

The trickster raised an eyebrow with a huff of laughter. “Yes, and _that_ will be such an interesting discussion. Do you expect remorse or some such nonsense from me?”

“I expect you to remain a mystery to all, especially to your brother and myself.” The king thumped the butt of Gungnir into the floor and with an unbefitting groan used it to heave himself unsteadily to his feet. “Do you have the strength in you to still cast a glamour?”

“It is the easier of my spells. Why?”

“If we are to make it to my chambers there is every chance there are others around who will see us. I assume you do not intend anyone to know you are still alive if you wish our plan to work.”

“They would have my head on a pike.”

“So it might not be wise to look like yourself.”

Loki nodded slightly and a moment later his appearance shimmered and returned to that of the guard he had originally impersonated. “Will this do?”

“It will do.”

They came across very few people on their slow journey to the Royal suite, but enough to warrant Loki’s disguise. The rooms had been given a perfunctory clean to make them livable, but there was much structural damage still to be sorted. Odin wearily led the way into the inner chamber that he usually used when the Odinsleep took him, whilst his son hovered awkwardly in the doorway.

“How long is this likely to last?” The trickster asked quietly. “Weeks?”

“It may be months – you will recall I was pulled out of the last one prematurely.”

“ _Months_?” The glamour dropped and Loki leant heavily against the door-frame. 

“You do not believe you can carry off a deception for that long?”

“I could do it for years, but I would not wish to.”

Odin sat himself down painfully on the edge of the raised dais. “You wished to be king near enough all your life.”

“As myself, not acting out a part as someone else.” Loki would have cut a more impressive figure if he had been able to stand straight rather than hunched over with his arms wrapped around his waist. However, his words were still strong. “Although if I were truly to be myself that would be cause for even more alarm than seeing me alive.”

“I would not phrase it like that.” Odin had lain down on the dais, hands folded on his chest. “Blue is a good colour on you.”

For a moment the trickster looked stunned, before he managed to cover it with a smirk. “I prefer green.”

“I dare say you do.” The old king raised a hand to start activing the spell that shielded him during the long Sleep. 

“You are truly going to trust me with this…”

“I am. How about you trust yourself for once?” He didn’t wait for a reply, instead finishing the spell and closing his eyes. 

Loki sucked his breath in sharply as the golden barrier sealed itself over the king’s prone form, a protective cocoon signifying that the Odinsleep had fallen. The trickster ran a shaking hand through his hair, sliding down the door frame to sit slumped on the floor. Of all the possible outcomes that had gone through his mind the moment that spear struck him, this hadn’t even been a dream. He still felt like he was hanging between life and death, the wound somewhat healed physically, but his mind still in free-fall.

He technically had everything he had been chasing after the past few years and didn’t want anything to do with any of it. He had wanted nothing more than to be free of this place forever. It took almost too long for him to grasp the idea that he had merely given his word to Odin; that didn’t mean he _had_ to stay. The thought buoyed him up slightly and he tried to scramble up again.

The deep-seated pain stopped any movement before he could really get anywhere, freezing him against the doorframe again. When he pressed a hand against his stomach it came away covered in fresh blood and the leather sliding across his back told him the same was true for the exit wound. Just because it was no longer immediately killing him didn’t mean that it wasn’t still going to be the death of him if he didn’t sort it out.

Maybe going along with the plan was the best thing to do for a while. Impersonate Odin until he was well enough to either take Asgard in his own name through show of force or simply leave. He would be safe enough as long as the Dark Elves were dealt with. He hardly wanted to have to face them again any time soon.

And it would be rather entertaining to see how Thor was dealing with his supposed death – assuming that the blond oaf ever made it back. Infact, Loki could use his brother to his advantage; if Thor came back he could simply hand the throne over under the pretense of entering the Odinsleep and leave the thunder God to it. That way the right person would be in charge, Odin could wake up and find the kingdom still in one piece and Loki could leave.

Yes. This could work…

He tipped his head back against the doorframe and shakily raised a hand to the wound again. Carefully he ran two fingers through the blood and then traced out a rough symbol on the floor. The very movement was agony but he forced himself to complete the sigil. 

Unlike the usual glamour he cast, this was heavy spell-work. It would mean that his disguise would be solid rather than an illusion over his own form – a complete cover-up that would be impossible for another to pull apart. In theory there was no way anyone would ever be able to tell that ‘Odin’ was anything other than what he seemed.

With everything in place and the spell beginning to settle over him he trusted it to do its job and finally lost consciousness, slumped against the doorframe.

MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMW

When Thor finally returned, the Dark Elves vanquished, Loki hadn’t expected to have his brother throw the kingship, the throne and the entire damn _kingdom_ back at him. In the face of such an unexpected setback all the trickster could really do was laugh as his brother walked away…

The Allfather in the Odinsleep, Thor now determined to live on Earth and Loki on the throne of Asgard. This could only be interesting.


End file.
